Puck Rhymes With
by Cannibal Incorporated
Summary: Finn had always assumed Kurt was the good-boy type. Of course, that was before he caught him sneaking through his bedroom window at four in the morning with a bag of weed in one hand, and wearing what a appeared to be Noah Puckerman's letterman jacket.


A/N: Woot, PucKurt. Never really referred to myself as a 'Gleek', but here I am writing porn of it. So, if that doesn't make me a Gleek, then I don't know what does. But seriously, when do you cross the line from being 'that regular fan' to '_that_ fan'? You know?

**Summery: Before moving into the Hummel household, Finn had always assumed Kurt was the straight-laced, good-boy type. Of course, that was before he caught him sneaking through his bedroom window at four in the morning with a bag of weed in one hand, a bag if bacon in the other, and wearing what a appeared to be Noah Puckerman's letterman jacket. Set sometime after 'Never Been Kissed'**

**Warnings: Language, sex, and drugs**

**Puck Rhymes With-**

Kurt couldn't say when exactly it started- his attraction for Puck- only that it came to him through a series of erotic dreams, ruined sheets, and morning wood. Sure, he had had his fair share of crushes, most notably and recently being Finn, but having to take a cold shower every morning for a month was _ridiculous_. Puck was not even worth all of that trouble.

So the obvious thing to do had been to find the solution- preferably ending in getting in the male's pants, because Kurt may have been a virgin, but he was _horny_. And horny-Kurt tended to be bitch-Kurt, which usually lead to everyone being pissed off at him by the end of the day.

Kurt Hummel was not a blushing wimp when it came to being sexually deprived.

Sure, in ten years when McKinnley would have a reunion, Kurt would retell the story of him jumping Noah-effing-Puckerman in the music room and no one would believe him- because no one jumped Puck and lived to tell the story, especially not homosexual boys looking for a five minute blow job. And maybe that was to his advantage, because Puck hadn't believed it at first either.

"Hey Puck," Kurt called to the jock, a playful tone in his voice, as everyone left the Glee classroom. It was after school and their meeting had just ended, Kurt stalling around because he knew Puck was usually the last one to leave.

"What do you want-?"

Kurt could almost hear the word 'fag' slip from his tongue, but ever since Finn had moved in, he had turned into that obnoxious older brother type- telling everyone to never use the _f_-word. He let out an undignified snicker.

"Do you know your name rhymes with-"

"I swear, if you finish that Hummel, I will eat your face off," Noah snapped, having heard the joke a million times in his life. Yes, he knew _exactly_ what _Puck_ rhymed with.

Kurt smiled.

"Is that a promise?"

There was silence in the room, Puck scowling- lips thin, eyes dark.

"Are you hitting on me?"

The shorter of the two laughed.

"I suppose. Look, hear me out for a moment. I'm not trying to turn you gay. Just… if you ever find yourself tired of sexting Santana twenty-four/seven, feel free to try me out any time,"

It came out sluttier than Kurt intended, but by the way Puck's eyebrows raised, he wasn't about to take anything back. The teen seemed to consider it for a minute, then shook his head as if confused, and it made Kurt's grin broaden.

"Don't worry. It's only sex. Here-" Kurt pulled a folded up piece of paper from his satchel and dared to slip it into Puck's back pocket as he passed him, "Give me a call if you're ever interested,"

And so started their strictly-sexually-superficial-non-homosexual-relationship. Not quite fuck-buddies, because that required them to be _buddies _in the first place, and not quite booty-call, because it didn't happen that often (at first). In fact, it had taken a full month before Puck even attempted to call Kurt up. Well, text. And it was about time, because Kurt was ready to pop his ass-cherry.

It was the night before sectionals that Kurt crawled out of his bedroom window at midnight after receiving a message that said '_waitin 4 u down tha skreet_'- bad grammar, ghetto-text slang and all. Puck was waiting in his truck, the engine loud against the chirping crickets, and Kurt was thankful the jock had been thoughtful enough to not park in front of his house. Burt might have caught on otherwise.

Kurt climbed in, wearing the pair of tight skinnies from that day and a loose, off-the-shoulder sleeping t-shirt, feet bare. Puck's eyes trailed over him, lingering at the exposed collar bone and neck. It was the messiest he had ever seen the prissy-boy's hair, but it still managed to look good- even better, he thought. Puck hoped to mess the boy up thoroughly that night.

"My mom's out of town and my sister is over at a friends. And Santana is busy with Brittany, so…" Puck started as he pulled them out of Kurt's residence, "I thought we could… You know,"

Kurt found his embarrassment endearing.

"As long as you have me home before dawn," Kurt mumbled, watching the scenery fly by. Jesus, Puck was a fast driver.

He had never stepped foot in the Puckerman house before, and it was something Kurt honestly never got the chance to sit around and take in. Puck wasn't one to beat around the bush, and had Kurt in his bedroom barely a second after closing the front door.

"All right, let's set a few ground rules," Puck said around the cotton of his shirt as he stripped it over his head, "First of all, I'm not gay. Let's face it; I'm hot, you're hot, so sex is only natural between us. Okay? No touching the Puckzilla-"

Kurt rolled his eyes. _Wait until I get my mouth down there_-

"And no crying out each other's names. This isn't some preteen girl's fantasy of a budding romance. Got it?"

Holding in a contemptuous snort and hiding his amused smile behind a hand, Kurt nodded. The smaller boy pulled his shirt off easily, and shimmied out of his jeans, a spike of excited nervousness shooting through his pounding heart. This was happening.

"So-" Puck cleared his throat, "-I take it you're a virgin. I'll be sure to-"

"Oh, don't worry about _that_, Noah," -the first time Kurt had addressed the teen by his first name, he noted, while pressing a palm into his chest until the jock fell onto his back on the bed, "After all, tonight is all about _you_,"

The Jew's mouth actually hung open a little. Kurt hadn't waited months for this to act like a virginal school girl when it came to the crucial moment. No way- he was going to spend this first time focusing on Puck's- no, _Noah's_- pleasure so the poor jock would get hooked and come looking for more. Kurt was a natural born schemer, and this first experience was all a part of the master plan.

Slowly, Kurt trailed his short, manicured nails over Noah's bare chest while he took a sensitive earlobe between his teeth, breathing hot air over the skin there. He didn't expect much of a reaction from that first move because Puck had sex a _lot_, but it was a sign to the jock that he was not in the least afraid to touch. When warm, large hands came to grip on his hips, Kurt batted them away, glancing around the messy room until he found a leather belt. He reached for it and gave Noah a mean smile of warning to cooperate. Kurt had the jock's wrists knotted up with the belt in less than twenty seconds (What else could he do for months, but practice for this?).

He thought maybe Puck would protest, but any fight left in him drained when Kurt raked his nails over his pecks again. And sure, Kurt was nervous as hell, but he was beyond that.

It wasn't like the plan was to get Noah Puckerman to fall in love with him or anything. It was all for the ego boost of having a straight guy cum because a gay guy's hands were on him. It was the glory of having a skirt chaser bend to the whim of a male diva's. That was, in a lesser amount of words, what Kurt wanted.

Kurt was careful not to kiss Puck. It was to maintain control over him and the situation- to kiss would mean they were more than a game, and Kurt didn't want Puck thinking he was after more than physical satisfaction. It would be too flattering.

That didn't mean he couldn't make this fierce though. And if anyone was fierce, it was Kurt.

With one last searing look into Noah's eyes, Kurt leaned down and bit hard on his neck, sucking viciously, no mercy, no prisoners. If he didn't have a hickey the size of a golf ball, Kurt would eat his own hand. Noah gasped helplessly through the pain, muscles straining against the leather belt.

Kurt lathed his tongue on the spot and blew cool air, relishing in the shiver he earned. He dotted Noah's torso with feather light kisses, teasing and slow, contrast to the harsh red scratches he had made earlier. He bit playfully along Puck's hips and stomach, watching his face and abdominals clench.

In one swift move, Kurt yanked the older teen's holey, worn jeans from his body, and outright laughed when he swore. He guessed there might have been some friction in the crotchal region during that move.

"_Fuck_- get on with it, Hummel,"

Kurt grinned, and when Noah saw it, he felt a feeling of despair come over him. A cool, slim finger trailed down the dark happy trail on Puck's toned stomach, stopping just above the base of his cock, pushing his boxers away a centimeter. The finger continued over the cloth and around the bulge underneath, never touching.

"Get on with what, exactly? I do believe it was you who told me 'no touching Puckzilla',"

The comment elicited a groan from Puck, as he clenched his eyes closed.

"You know what? You're a real bitch, Kurt. A real bi- _Fuck_!"

The boxers had been pulled down to reveal Noah's fully-engorged dick, and Kurt took the liberty of licking it to see if he could get the teen to shut up. He hadn't really gotten any quieter, but at least the insults had stopped.

Using the element of surprise to his advantage, Kurt took the base of Noah's hardened flesh and pressed his warm, moist tongue against its slit. He wondered, with how sensitive Puck seemed to be, when the last time he had gotten off had been. Seriously, he couldn't be _that_ good at giving head. There was only so much reading _The Cosmopolitan_ every Saturday morning could do before the only thing one had was experience. And Kurt had none.

Carefully avoiding using his teeth, Kurt inched the cock- he _refused_ to address Noah's penis as _Puckzilla_- inside his mouth and sucked. There was a gasp somewhere above him, but the prima-Donna was too focused on the task at hand to gouge any reactions. That was for later. He hummed low around the salty tasting skin- read that the vibrations were supposed to feel really good- and alternated between wiggles of his tongue and harsh sucks. When he tasted pre-cum, Kurt pulled away, a little grossed out when a trail of saliva mixed with Noah's _man-stuff_ connected them for a second before breaking messily.

He looked up through hazy, blue-green eyes, glad that the sound of heavy panting wasn't coming from himself.

"Are you sure you're a virgin?" Noah finally managed.

Kurt giggled again and removed his own underwear- an embarrassingly feminine pair of women's panties- but maybe Puck found it oddly hot. The laughing stopped when Kurt realized just how aroused he actually was. Talk about a painful erection.

Noah seemed to freeze when he realized that Kurt was aroused, like he just noticed he had a dick too, but Kurt had been prepared for this, so he just moved along like it was nothing.

Leaving Puck like he was for a minute- naked, horny, bound-, Kurt fished around in his pants that were on the floor for a condom and the little bottle labeled 'Tube o' Lube'. He was a bit ashamed that it had become his best friend within the last few weeks. Once the lube and rubber were retrieved, Kurt returned to his spot, straddling Noah's pelvis. Their eyes met as Kurt ripped open the square package and stretched the elastic around the teen's erection. Then, he squeezed a generous amount of the cold liquid-paste into his palm and spread it over the straining cock- which was quite a bit bigger than any preparation Kurt's fingers could supply. But he was not to be deterred. Especially not now, when his body was craving this so badly, it _ached_.

Watching Noah's face, Kurt's eyelids slid half-mast as his own fingers reached behind himself and pressed into his tight entrance. He was fully relaxed, though his stomach was knotted up in furious butterflies. This was what it all came down to.

After loosening himself up, Kurt gripped Puck's more than willing penis and lined himself up over it. Biting his lip, the smaller male took a breath and impaled himself on Noah about an inch before pulling away. Almost immediately, Kurt pressed down again, allowing a bit more inside before repeating the process. He had learned that this was the best way to start, and Puck was actually _moaning_, loud and long (as opposed to Kurt's slightly humiliating quiet, needy mewls).

At long last, Kurt pushed the tip of Noah's cock into his core and fell all the way to his pelvis, brushing his prostate in the process, and Kurt really couldn't help it-

"_Noah_," and fuck the ground rules anyways- Kurt had Puckzilla balls deep inside of him. It wasn't like anyone in the room was conscious enough to really know.

Noah groaned and pulled at the belt holding his hands at bay, twisting and writhing as Kurt gripped his shoulders and set a smooth, rolling pace of thrusting. Puck was all swearing and rambling, and Kurt wondered if he was this uncool with all of his other bed partners. So much for a badass- the guy was practically crying.

They were young teenagers of roaring libidos but not much endurance, so the pace turned jerky and spasmodically too quickly. Noah's hips desperately arched off of his mattress as Kurt went rigid, nails and teeth digging into the heated, tanned flesh beneath him. Puck's condom filled and stretched as he shot his own load, Kurt's hot semen spreading between the two, landing mostly on Noah's stomach.

They panted and trembled, and Kurt collapsed onto Noah's chest as he pulled the jock's now-soft cock from his slick, stretched entrance. With weak arms, he reached up and untied his wrists before falling still again.

Kurt pretended not to care when Noah rolled them onto their sides and proceeded to spoon him, naked and still soiled, until three in the morning.

They barely got Kurt back by dawn, but it didn't matter because he wasn't caught. Finn was still sleeping on his side of the bedroom, and Burt hadn't even gotten up from work yet. The only thing Kurt was concerned with was the fact that they had school in a few hours. Who cared that he lost his virginity to the school badass and playboy? Tell it to over half the female population in Lima.

Life continued on as normal- Kurt went shopping with Mercedes and promised 'Yes, of course I'll tell you if I get a boyfriend' and Puck- rarely Noah when referred to in monologue- still flirted relentlessly with anything that had a decent rack. Nothing changed, except at night. And those nights, much to Kurt's pleasure, were becoming a lot more frequent.

**oOoOoOo**

Finn had the whole house to himself that night.

Burt and Carole were out and wouldn't return until super late, and Kurt was out doing whatever it was that he did on a Friday night. Finn had no plans with Rachel that nigh since she was on a mini-vacation to the beach with her dads for the weekend, and Puck hadn't spent a night with Finn for weeks. So all he had planned for the evening was watch some mind numbing television and play some video games until his brain went into a comatose.

It wasn't until he received a call from a very anxious Mercedes that Finn remembered there was a world outside of the basement.

"_Finn, I can't get a hold of Kurt. Do you know where he his? I've already called like, half the Glee club_,"

Finn swallowed a mouthful of potato chips, wincing as they scratched on the way down.

"Thought he was with you,"

They hung up after confirming that they both didn't know where Kurt was, and Finn thought he would be able to get back to his night alone. But that first call had only been the beginning. Not five minutes later, his cell went off again.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Finn! This is Sam. 'Cedes called me and Quinn wondering where Kurt was, and I thought I'd call you and see if you knew anything,_"

Finn stared at his phone in frustrated confusion. Seriously, just because they lived together didn't mean Finn kept tabs on the guy.

"I don't know,"

"_Oh- sorry to bother you, then. See you Monday, dude,_"

He pressed the end button with a sigh. _Now_, he could go back to-

His phone buzzed and the caller ID told him it was Santana. With a scowl, Finn answered with an angry 'What?'.

"_Is this you, meat head? Quinn sent me a text that said the gay boy is missing. I couldn't get a hold of him on his cell. You know what's up?_"

"No- your guess is as good as mine," Finn replied, exasperated. They ended the conversation, until Santana's number popped up again. Finn's brows furrowed, but he answered anyways, thinking Santana must have forgotten to mention something.

"_Hey, Finn. This is Brittany. Santana told me Kurt was missing and I thought you would know, so-_"

Finn hung up with an angry groan.

Setting it beside him on the floor, he picked up his controller and smiled. Time to kill some zombies.

_Buz buz buz._

Finn froze.

_Buz buz buz._

Glanced down, murder in his eyes-

_Buz buz buz._

-Saw the caller ID said Rachel-Boo and seriously considered ignoring it before caving and flipping the phone open.

"…Hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"_Oh, Finn! I just got a text from Artie saying Kurt went missing-_"

With an enraged cry, Finn threw the phone across the room, against the wall. A dopey grin settled over his face, and he sat down again, humming along with the techno music coming from the Zombie Apocalypse 5.

Eventually, maybe around one or two, Finn curled into bed, thinking Kurt must be out with that Blaine guy again. Now that he thought about it, they _had_ been hanging out quite often. Yeah, simple as that.

Finn fell asleep, peace at mind, his broken phone all but forgotten. See if anyone bothered him again tonight.

**oOoOoOo**

There was a creaking noise, and Finn vaguely became aware that he was coming to. He didn't want to believe it- that someone was actually breaking into his bedroom. Another scraping sound that was the window, and a breathy curse- Finn was positive someone was breaking and entering. With a groan of ire through gritted teeth, the would-be-sleeping jock reached over and turned on his lap, fully intending to reveal the intruder.

He rolled over in his bed to face the window and looked.

And looked some more.

The smell of pot, booze, and sex filtered into the bedroom as Kurt stumbled the rest of the way inside. His hair was tousled, sticking up in random places. In his hands was a bag of weed and a bag of packaged bacon- _bacon!_ His jeans were on, but unbuttoned, revealing something frilly underneath, and he was shirtless but the letterman jacket he was wearing covered the majority of his hickey covered chest.

"Is that _Puck's_ jacket?" Finn blurted.

Kurt jumped, head snapping up in surprise as if he hadn't noticed Finn had been watching him the whole time. The jock gazed at the boy carefully- saw the blown out pupils and flushed cheeks. Kurt was _stoned_.

"What? Of course not,"- but even as he said it, Kurt turned around to close the window, revealing 'Puckerman' written out in bold letters across the fabric.

What was going on here?

Then, Finn's anger returned. He glanced at the clock, saw it was four in the morning. Their parents must have gotten home hours ago.

"Dude, I had like, all of Lima calling about you. Where have you been?"

Kurt stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, trying to comprehend through the smoke in his brain. Before moving into the Hummel household, Finn had always pegged Kurt as the straitlaced (no pun intended), good-boy type. But this… This was unbelievable. Guys like Kurt did not sneak out to drink, get high, and have sex. And judging by the marks lining his chest and neck, he had definitely had sex. (Which wasn't in the least bit fair, since Finn had only gotten boob action from Rachel in all the months they had been dating, and Finn hadn't even thought Kurt had been with anyone.)

"Oh- you know, with Mercedes,"

Which was totally bull shit, and Kurt seemed to realize this, so he quickly amended himself.

"Er- I mean, just- around… no where in particular,"

They stared at each other, before Kurt's weed riddled mind got bored. He put the bacon on his bedside table, muttering something about meat being a sin, and wobbled off into the bathroom. When the door shut and the sound of water running hit Finn's ears, the teen fell back on his bed, eyes wide. The_ fuck_?

How long had this been going on? How often did it happen? Was Kurt really meeting up with Puck? Finn shook his head. No- no way. The jacket didn't mean anything- Kurt could have stolen it as a prank and would give Puck his jacket back Monday or something. And he was wearing it because it was kind of chilly outside and it was easier to carry with it on. Plus, Puck was as straight as they come. And heterosexual guys did _not_ get high with and have sex with homosexual guys.

Finn smiled.

Yeah, there was just no way. Kurt must have been hanging out with someone from that all boy's school. Blaine or something. Come Monday, everything would be totally normal.

Right.

**oOoOoOo**

Wrong.

Kurt knew he had screwed up by wearing Noah's jacket home, but how else was he supposed to carry it? So- Finn had some suspicions, but that didn't mean Kurt had to confirm them. It wasn't like he and Noah were obvious about their sexual relationship status in the first place. They both didn't hang out with their friends as much as they used to- so what? That could mean anything.

He would just have to be extra careful from now on.

Like, wait until everyone was already in class to sneak by Noah's locker and slip pieces of paper filled with dirty messages and rendezvous times between the cracks. And if he happened to not notice Finn peeking around the corner at him, well it wasn't his fault.

And it wasn't _his_ job to teach Puck a better poker face when he decided to sext him in the middle of class, Kurt thought as he slyly glanced over his shoulder at the unguarded hiss Puck let out. They were sitting in the New Directions classroom listening to Mr. Schuester talk about the importance of soul when performing. Or supposed to be listening. In Kurt's case, he was alternating between watching the teacher's lips move and typing up things like '_Do you remember my tongue on your dick?_' or '_Have you ever fantasized about taking me from behind?_' to send to Noah. It was so trashy- but that just made it all the more fun. Who knew it could be so exciting to get under Puckerman's skin. Kurt smiled.

In another minute, Kurt would send '_Am I the only one who swallows?_'.

But this teasing never went without retaliation from Puck. Oh, no- the jock would often make a point of gaudily flirting with the Cheerios- placing an arm around their slim shoulders, pinching their button noses, flipping their skirts- all of them giggling in pleasure. Fuck them. Only, Kurt could never just _show_ that he was maybe a little jealous of the Cheerios; it would only provoke Noah- and the last thing Kurt needed was for him to loose what control he had in the situation.

Kurt frowned in distaste upon hearing Santana's coy "Not here, Puck-" coming from the back row of seats, and thought it was time to amp it up a little. Waiting for Schue to turn away, Kurt angrily- but the epitome of calm on the outside, of course- messaged Noah. '_I bet I can make you cum before the tardy bell rings between classes_,'

He received a reply that time, and Kurt had to bite his cheek to keep from grinning in victory. Puck might be a promiscuous ass hole, but the younger teen only played it to his advantage.

'_yea rite ur on_'

Articulate as ever, Noah.

The rest of Glee went by in a blur for Kurt- he barely registered Sam and Quinn's song- _The Nicest Thing_ by Kate Nash- or Mike's amazing dance number that he wished to write as choreography for regional's. All he could really focus on was the heated stare drilling into the back of his head. The teen really wanted to say something- because come on, was it really necessary to _ogle_ like that? But decided against it because it would probably be more embarrassing for himself than for Puck. There may have been a shift in their standing with each _other_, but as far as anyone else knew, they were still on opposite ends of the social food chain.

The bell rang, and Kurt practically skipped out of the classroom, down the hall, and to the janitor's closet he had been eyeing for the last few days (he had been thinking of engaging in some sexual acts at school in order to keep things spiced up). The teen stalled a few minutes, pretending to tie his shoe before slipping inside when the halls thinned out. He hadn't even closed the door before Puck was there, gripping the front of his shirt and forcing his back against a shelf. Kurt would have felt threatened had it not been for the searing mouth on his throat.

Finn stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the closed door of the utility closet. A door was such an innocent thing- it only opened and closed. It really wasn't its fault that so many indecent, secretive things kept happening behind it- but for some reason, Finn could only blame that door. It didn't make sense, nor was it rational, but everything Finn had belief in was being flipped and tossed around.

Bullies were supposed to be bullies. Victims were supposed to be victims. No lines should be crossed.

_I should turn around. I should just turn around and go to class. I don't have to see anything- I can pretend it never happened._

The jock was jarred out of his thoughts at the sound of the late bell and the twisting of a door knob. Kurt and Puck came stumbling out of the closet, fixing hair and buckling up belts. Maybe this whole thing was just another way to mess with Kurt. Maybe the teen was being forced. Finn scowled. Victims of sexual harassment don't usually grab their harassers by the collar to whisper things in their ears.

Laughing and talking in hushed undertones, the two teens glanced up and down the hall only to halt. Finn stared at them as they stared at him.

It was too much for the jock. _Noah-fucking-Puckerman and Kurt-fucking-Hummel_? Get real! But there was a purple bruise on Kurt's neck that he hadn't covered with a scarf yet, and Puck had just stopped adjusting himself in his pants. _They_… Fin clenched his eyes shut, _They're hate fucking_!

"Fin…" voice breathless, Kurt called hesitantly to explain- or make up something, no one was sure.

The jock jumped in shock as if electrocuted, and whipped his head between Kurt and Puck several times before spinning on his heel and speeding down the hall. It was way past due for a visit to Ms. P's.

The OCD counselor studied Finn carefully as he finished his account as a witness to multiple events concerning two of his peers.

"So you're saying… You think that Noah and Kurt are somehow… involved?" Ms. Pillsbury asked, fiddling with the pens and papers on her desk.

Finn nodded, lips pursed and nostrils flared.

"I saw them coming out of that unused janitor's closet down the hall,"

There was silence in the office as Ms. Pillsbury was subject to all of the mental images that statement stirred up. She closed her eyes and shook her head a little, sending red curls about her like whirling flames.

"Why does this bother you so much, Finn? If Kurt and Noah are in fact involved, do you not want them to be?"

"It's weird!" Finn cried in despair, "Puck is like, my best friend. Seeing him and Kurt like that… Is just wring. It's like your best friend dating your little sister or something,"

Except Kurt wasn't Finn's little sister because he wasn't a girl. Or related to him.

Ms. Pillsbury looked at Finn for a long time, unsure what exactly it was that she should say to him. She sighed.

"Are you worried that because of Puck's reputation he may end up hurting Kurt?"

Finn furrowed his brows, looking uncannily like an oversized, extremely confused puppy. He wasn't sure what to make of all of this _feelings_-talk. It was like listening to Rachel when she was on a roll, ranting about how important it was that she become famous, and he just sort of zoned out for a few minutes, come back, and realize she was still talking. All he knew was that Puck and Kurt just shouldn't be together. Seriously, what did they have going for them? And too late- the answer was there, and Finn was leaping up to go confront the ex-juvie-

The _sex_. Oh, god- poor, poor innocent, defiled Kurt! He was being eaten alive behind all of their backs by some horny skin head (he felt a little bad for thinking that about his best friend) and no one was there to help him!

"Finn?-" the jock was already out of the office and rushing to the guy's locker room- "You forgot your bag…"

Finn ran down the halls and barreled through the locker room door- another innocent door-

"Puckerman!" he snapped loudly.

The chatter of the football players died away, and Finn saw the growing Mohawk hairstyle turn towards him in mild curiosity. Puck was seated on one of the benches, shirtless- having just taken a shower.

"Stay away from Kurt,"

Everyone rolled their eyes- Finn was just scolding Puck for picking on his gay step-brother again. Totally normal. Puck gazed at him for a long time before shrugging and going back to applying deodorant.

"Whatever, dude," and Finn relaxed, until he heard Puck whisper under his breath, "He asked for it-"

A little less normal, but nothing to sweat over. Everyone was already back to minding their own business- except maybe Karofsky, who seemed to always show more than disinterest when Kurt's name was mentioned.

Finn approached his fellow jock, looming over his seated figure with all of his height.

"Kurt doesn't know what he wants,"

Puck snorted, grinning a little too smugly.

"Really? Because I know exactly what he wants. He tells me every time I bend him over and-"

"Finn!" Coach Beast interrupted, "You okay? Ms. Pillsbury called me to let me know you were going to be late,"

Puck snickered.

"You had to go talk to the councilor because you couldn't handle what you saw?"

"Shut up, Fuckerman!" Finn demanded, face red with embarrassment and anger. It only made Puck laugh harder, and soon, against his will, Finn was laughing too. Because this was just hysterical- _Puck_ and_ Kurt. _

"You're crazy, man," Puck said after calming down, still letting out a few chuckles.

Finn looked at him, noticing red nail marks lining the tan skin, and thought _yes I am._

**oOoOoOo**

"So, Finn knows," Kurt mused while rolling over onto his side, getting comfortable in the warm sheets. Noah's hand came up to massage the smaller teen's neck before he realized that if he did that, it would make them seem like lovers and stopped himself.

"I guess," Noah replied, lying back on the pillows on his bed himself.

He felt the warmth of Kurt's body next to his and smiled. For not being gay, being gay wasn't really all that bad. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he made Kurt his official lover or something. Not boyfriend, because that was way too cheesy, and the Puck did not do cheesy.

"Hey, Kurt,"

Kurt looked over his shoulder with a soft '_hmm_'.

"You want to go out with me?"

"Hell no," Kurt replied without missing a beat.

Noah sputtered, becoming angry.

"Well, I don't want to go out with you either!"

Kurt laughed airily, flipping over so that he was straddling Noah's lap. He pinched his tan, stubbly cheeks before leaning their bodies together.

"I'm kidding," Kurt whispered, "But you have to kiss me first,"

"I think I can do that,"

"And you _have_ to stop flirting with Santana,"

"You're a real bitch, Kurt. A real-"

He cut the jock off, pressing his mouth firmly against Noah's in their first-ever kiss. They pulled apart, but Noah grabbed Kurt by the hair and pulled him in for another. Kurt smiled into the jock's mouth.

"You are _so_ gay for me,"

**Fin**


End file.
